


Sappy Old(er) Losers in Love

by littlelizardtails (dragonfucker)



Series: Happy Endings, Extra Fluff [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 08:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10827132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonfucker/pseuds/littlelizardtails
Summary: Gift fic. "Fluffy domestic McHanzo". I may not be great at sap but here's my best attempt at smothering someone in fluff and giving them diabetes. Also tildes are an acceptable and perfectly legitimate form of punctuation that indicates a specific tone of voice, fight me.





	Sappy Old(er) Losers in Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LeftHand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeftHand/gifts).



**_Deadline: three weeks._ **

 

The hard part wasn’t acquiring the ingredients. The hard part was making sure they weren’t found.

 

The first couple of years, Jesse had no idea what Hanzo’s favourite foods were. He’d thought maybe they were just the things Hanzo seemed to eat most often--but no, that turned out to be simple spartan efficiency; Hanzo ate the same simple meals day in and day out because those meals required minimal effort for maximum nutritional value. He’d figured out what special treats Hanzo liked, at least--strawberry cakes, sweet indulgences best saved for the rare noteworthy occasion or maybe just a night spent together after a dinner date--but desserts weren’t exactly what Jesse was working with here.

 

Genji had been his saving grace, telling Jesse at last the sort of home-cooked comfort food Hanzo enjoyed above all else, that Hanzo himself has been reluctant to share. Jesse’s first attempts to bring this taste of home to whatever Overwatch base they happened to be stationed in had born unexpectedly entertaining fruit. Hanzo, having found the ingredients in the pantry, had assumed they’d been purchased by Genji and helped himself; he had essentially stolen what he'd presumed to be his brother’s food in a tentatively friendly back-and-forth of ribbing the two of them had developed over the course of several years of healing and reconciliation.

 

Discovering that the groceries had in fact been Jesse’s had left the elder Shimada so embarrassed, Jesse swore Hanzo’s face could’ve matched his serape in hue. Jesse, for his part, was just glad Hanzo had enjoyed it.

 

It had taken several more years for Jesse to finally figure out how to make Hanzo’s favourite ramen correctly, with only Hanzo’s quiet, fond judgements as clues to go by. Eventually, he got it right, however by then Hanzo had figured out how Jesse worked; he knew how Jesse’s affection was expressed in care and caregiving and only grew the more it was indulged. Yet despite the years that had passed, he continued to insist that it was  _ unnecessary _ .

 

He never quite seemed to grasp that Jesse just  _ liked _ being able to dote on Hanzo this way.

 

So, to circumvent Hanzo’s inevitable fussing, Jesse hid the ingredients as he procured them. Hanzo could put up his fussing the day of the surprise, and not a moment sooner.

 

* * *

 

**_Deadline: two weeks._ **

 

Jesse was proud to say that he was one of the few people around with whom Hanzo would sleep deeply enough not to wake too easily.

 

It was a position hard won, and not without effort. Hanzo was not so preternaturally aware that he could sense if it was his lover disturbing his rest as opposed to a rival assassin. Jesse had discovered this the hard way when, overeager to show his lover a ‘good morning’, he’d only earned himself a kick to the face and a startled Hanzo’s admonishment.

 

(He’d made up for it later with kisses decidedly south of the belt.)

 

But from years of practice and learning Hanzo’s body, and, Jesse knew, from years of Hanzo learning  _ him _ , they’d reached this point. The point where Jesse knew the right way to slowly cuddle up to Hanzo in the middle of the night after he’d gotten back home from a mission, long after his lover had fallen asleep waiting for him, and could rest pleased and happy in the way his sleeping beloved would smile even in his dreams. He hoped Hanzo got the same pleasure when he’d join Jesse on those nights when the cowboy had been the one waiting; he only knew that waking up to Hanzo’s warmth against his back was something he would never grow tired of.

 

Harder even than joining Hanzo in the middle of the night, however, was the prospect of slipping away from him in the morning without disturbing him. It was not one of Jesse’s preferred talents. No, as much as he knew Hanzo needed his rest--the man found far too little of it, though his sleepless nights were growing fewer over the years--on those rare occasions where Jesse woke up before his lover, he enjoyed nothing more than lazing in bed for as long as he could, languidly enjoying the warmth shared between them. Perhaps he'd even see if he could coax Hanzo’s sleeping body into pleasure such that waking was brought by his body’s shivering climax.

 

Still, Jesse had learned the tricks and the skills necessary--how to extricate himself from his lover’s grasp and the tangled sheets without rousing Hanzo from his dreams too soon. It had taken extensive practice, with too few opportunities given how rarely the cowboy woke first, but when Jesse  _ did _ rise before Hanzo, he knew now how to slip away whilst leaving his beloved undisturbed.

 

* * *

 

**_Deadline: one week._ **

 

Some might say Jesse was making an unnecessarily big deal out of things.

 

Hanzo would be one of them. The man was not inclined towards excessive displays, nor being overly demonstrative in his affection. Jesse knew that; he took that into account when he planned these little celebrations. For as much as Hanzo insisted they were unnecessary, Jesse knew--had made certain--that Hanzo didn’t truly  _ mind _ them, was not put off or upset by them at all.

 

It was funny, how something so small could be said to be making a big deal out of things. All Jesse was doing was making Hanzo breakfast in bed, but it was the little things that made it stand out. When breakfast consisted of all of Hanzo’s favourite foods, sweet strawberries and delicate crepes, an omelet with chives and a bit of cheese, with a cup of his favourite tea, it was the attention to detail, the effort to get every little thing perfectly right, that made it special. Jesse lived for the way Hanzo would blush ever so slightly when he woke to see what Jesse had brought him, even after years of repetition on every anniversary might have numbed him to it--yet still he graced the cowboy with that soft, sweet, genuine smile of happiness, and Jesse would gladly wake up at the crack of dawn to put on his best impression of a western ninja just to make it happen yet again. It was a ritual that Jesse intended to keep up every year for the rest of forever.

 

And if he could swing getting them the entire day off just to spend their anniversary together, well, Jesse thought they were entitled to it on their special tenth year.

 

* * *

 

**_Deadline: 10 hours._ **

 

On some level, Jesse was aware he shouldn’t be doing this.

 

He had something… There was something. Something important. He was supposed to be doing it. Or was it yet to be done? He wasn’t entirely sure anymore, given that the world was swimming in a warm pleasant haze brought on by a few shots of bourbon too many--a gift from Genji and Reinhardt, who were bound and determined to enjoy it with him.

 

He’d meant to wave them off after only a single glass, but they’d pressed him to stay and share some stories with them, and, well--it was hard to say no. Reinhardt had finally given in to the demands of old age and entered true retirement, though he remained as a consultant to the next generation and oversaw training drills, even lending his presence to public appearances on occasion. Jesse knew it wore on him, not to be in the thick of the action any longer, but even Reinhardt had to acknowledge the limits of his own body, and the cowboy respected the knight far too much not to give in to some friendly companionship for old times’ sake.

 

To be perfectly honest, he wasn’t actually sure how many shots he’d had at this point. The glasses seemed a lot deeper than they ought to be. Come to think of it, Genji’s grin was a lot sharper than it ought to be, too.

 

He had a suspicion.

 

If only he could remember just what it was.

 

* * *

  
  


**_Deadline: 4 hours._ **

 

“Jesse, our room is  _ this _ way.”

 

Hanzo was grinning--a grin to match Jesse’s own shitfaced but delighted expression as the cowboy leaned heavily across his lover’s shoulder. “Wall’s closer,” he slurred, leaning in close to Hanzo to try and steal a kiss, but the archer evaded him with a laugh.

 

“Can you even get it up?”

 

“Darlin’, we ain’t  _ that _ old yet!”

 

“But you are certainly that  _ drunk! _ ”

 

“Not as think as you drunk I am!”

 

“If you are sober enough to quote Genji’s shitty t-shirts, then perhaps you are sober enough to walk back alone!”

 

It was an empty threat, and even in his intoxicated state, Jesse knew it, snickering madly as they stumbled down the hallway and finally,  _ finally _ , through the door of their room.

 

Hanzo got Jesse all the way to the bed before unceremoniously shoving him down onto it. In contrast, it was with loving gentleness that he sat down on the edge of the bed and began to undo his boots, prying them off Jesse’s feet before starting on his belt, causing the cowboy to chuckle and look up at him with a smouldering purr.

 

“Sure ya ain’t got an ulterior motive fer tryin’ t’get my clothes off me?” he asked, and Jesse felt fairly confident in the appealing image he made, splayed out across the bed as he was. Certainly, Hanzo seemed to be appreciating the view.

 

“Why, certainly,” Hanzo replied conspiratorially, and for a moment Jesse’s heart leapt even as his libido tried valiantly to get running as he tugged the cowboy’s belt off-- “I’m staging a coup and laying claim to your side of the bed.” Okay, maybe the eyebrow waggling had been overdoing it.

 

Despite the faint sigh of disappointment he wanted to make, Jesse found himself laughing. “Aw, darlin’, ya wound me,” he said, even as he watched Hanzo drop the belt and start on Jesse’s prosthetic attachments. “Here I am, at your mercy, and you ain’t even tempted?” When Hanzo pulled the arm away, placing it gently on the bedside table before he crawled onto the bed over him, Jesse raised his right arm to welcome him easily, his hand gliding over his lover’s ribs with easy familiarity, every ridge of muscle and seam of scar a roadmap he knew by heart.

 

“What good would it do me?” Hanzo asked, settling himself to lie atop Jesse, their noses brushing as he smiled fondly at him, “I believe you are writing checks you are not in a state to cash, Jesse.”

 

“Is that what you think?” Jesse would have taken it as a challenge, but Hanzo only tutted at him, before pressing a kiss to his lips, fond and sweet.

 

“I think we should sleep,” Hanzo purred, turning his head to press another kiss to Jesse’s temple as the cowboy closed his eyes with a contented hum. “You will want to wake up early tomorrow. Or have you forgotten?”

 

“Forg’tten what?” Jesse mumbled, too distracted chasing the scent of Hanzo’s hair, nuzzling into the regal streaks of white that adorned his temples to pay full attention to his lover’s words. Hanzo only chuckled in response.

 

“Sleep, Jesse,” he murmured, more softly now as those clever fingers found their way to Jesse’s scalp and started gently massaging there, drawing a soft, happy moan from the cowboy. “You can have me any way you like tomorrow.”

 

“That a promise?”

 

“It is a promise~”

 

* * *

  
  


**_Deadline: 6 hours ago._ **

 

Jesse woke up with a pounding headache, the light through the blinds stabbing into his eyes, and a deep rooted, discontented conviction that he was late to something.

 

What was it? It certainly wasn’t a mission, was it? God, not with the way his head hurt, he never would’ve drunk like this before a mission. Why had he been drinking so much in the first place? Vaguely, memories of Reinhardt and Genji filtered through--their laughter, their stories, their…

 

...congratulations?

 

_ Here’s to ten years, and many more to come! _

 

Jesse immediately felt nauseous as dread settled deep into the pit of his stomach.

 

He turned his head, reached out with right arm to the side of the bed where Hanzo normally slept--and found it cold and empty, Hanzo long gone.

 

_ Fuck. _ He’d slept in--he’d been hungover, and had slept in, not only missing his chance to prepare breakfast in bed for Hanzo like he had every year for the past ten years, but missing his chance just to be there and watch Hanzo wake up, be there with him for that first morning cuddle, that first morning kiss.

 

Despite knowing that, in the grand scheme of things, this wasn’t really that big of a setback, Jesse was… hell, disappointed wasn’t strong enough of a word. He was  _ upset _ . He’d been planning this for  _ weeks _ , and he’d gone and fucked it up cuz, what, he’d gone and gotten drunk with Genji and Reinhardt? He couldn’t even blame them for it. They’d just been congratulating him, after all.

 

Frustrated, Jesse pushed himself upright and set himself about the task of attaching his arm and getting at least presentable enough for the morning that he could go in search of Hanzo. He couldn’t get his morning back, unfortunately… but at least he could take comfort in his lover’s arms, and the relief that came with having gotten that full day off at last.

 

He was just tugging a clean shirt on as he stepped out into the hall, and no sooner had he opened his mouth to greet Athena--

 

“Agent McCree! You are up earlier than anticipated.”

 

Shirt still hovering just above his navel, the cowboy froze, staring up in the general vicinity of whichever speaker the AI had spoken from.

 

“...How d’ya reckon that?” he finally asked, tugging his shirt the rest of the way down as he furrowed his brow.

 

“Agent Shimada mentioned that you were sleeping in after how much you drank last night with his brother and Agent Wilhelm. I’ll let them know you’re up.”

 

“...Sounds good,” he finally said, frowning. “I’m just, uh, gonna go find Hanzo.”

 

“Agent Shimada is actually currently occupied with a mission briefing with Strike Commander Amari. He should be returning to your quarters in... “

 

“In?” The pause was only for a moment, but it had Jesse’s eyebrow rising towards his hairline.

 

“In about ten minutes,” Athena finished crisply. In the back of his mind, alarm bells were going off.

 

“Actually, I think I think I’ll go meet him,” Jesse said slowly, starting to make his way down the hall. He didn’t stop when Athena quickly replied.

 

“That isn’t necessary, Agent McCree. If you simply do not want to wait, may I recommend a morning gym session? Lieutenant Song will no doubt be delighted to have company.”

 

“You mean competition,” Jesse said, lips quirking in a smirk as he marked the gym off his mental checklist of places to check. “Nah, I ain’t that awake yet. They’ll be at Fareeha’s office, right?”

 

“Ah--that’s correct, Agent McCree,” Athena said, and Jesse praised Winston for making the AI as bad at lying as the scientist himself as he promptly turned down a different hallway. He swore he could hear Athena sighing. “Is there a particular reason why you are being uncooperative Agent McCree? I was not under the impression that I had given you reason to distrust me.”

 

“Ain’t distrust,” Jesse scoffed abruptly, peeking through the door to the rec room doors--a gaggle of younger recruits were gathered around the television, watching a rerun of one of Lucio’s performances from about a month ago. No sign of Hanzo. “Just can’t help but notice you seem to be tryin’ to keep me away from my honeybun, and on our special big day t’boot! Can ya blame a man for wonderin’ what’s up?”

 

“I am inclined to take offense. Also, I have informed Lieutenant Song that you owe a dollar to the Jar.”

 

“I still dispute treatin’ pet names like swears. You can mention that to Hana, too, while you’re at it.” He stopped at an intersection in the hallways, considering--would Hanzo be hiding something from him outside, in the training areas perhaps? It was a possibility. But Jesse was hungry, and inclined to check the kitchen first, maybe grab a bite to eat on the way. He turned and headed down that hall.

 

“I’ve been instructed to give you a message from Agent Shimada,” Athena said not two seconds later. “He concedes to your stubbornness, and would like me to inform you that he is waiting for you out on training range 3.”

 

“Huh.” The cowboy paused momentarily, considering. “Well in that case I’ll be out there just as soon as I grab some breakfast.”

 

“He insists that you go directly to him, or you will not be entitled to any sexual contact today.” At that, Jesse barked a laugh.

 

“Can I take a wild guess and assume that that message comes from the  _ younger _ Shimada, and not the one I’m actually sharing an anniversary with today?” Teeth bared in a wide grin, Jesse once again continued on his way towards the kitchen. “Hanzo wouldn’t mention ‘sexual favours’ in a message he intended someone else to pass, I thought Genji was smarter than that.” Just what was everyone trying to hide from him? Clearly they didn’t want him snooping around, so clearly that was exactly what he intended to do.

 

“Agent Shimada would like me to inform you that he is never purchasing alcohol for you ever again,” Athena intoned dryly. “Are you certain you do not wish to respect Agent Shimada’s wishes and allow him to meet you in your quarters in a few minutes?”

 

At that, Jesse actually had to stop and think about it. If Hanzo truly was going to the effort of making a surprise for him… well, that was definitely something special. Hanzo wasn’t as demonstrative as Jesse was--he expressed his affection in private, with intense tactile adoration, and through his absolute and unwavering loyalty and trust. That he was going out of his way to do something like this… That was something rare.

 

But there was just one problem.

 

“Answer me honestly, Athena,” Jesse finally said, settling back on his heels and crossing his arms over his chest. “Did Hanzo get Genji and Reinhardt to deliberately get me drunk last night so I’d sleep in and not make him breakfast in bed?”

 

The long pause that followed told him volumes. “...I cannot confirm whether Hanzo put them up to such a thing,” she finally answered delicately, making Jesse snort.

 

“Sorry, but me and my darlin’ gotta have some words, and he waived his entitlement to gettin’ to surprise me today by havin’ my own surprise sabotaged,” Jesse said as he strode across the last couple of yards between him and the kitchens, the door sliding open to admit him.

 

He took two steps inside, mouth already open to declare his malcontent, when abruptly, he came face to face with Hanzo. For a moment, he was too startled to react, but he took in the way Hanzo mirrored his wide-eyed expression with an added bonus of rabbit-like frozen-in-place anxiousness… and then his eyes dropped to what Hanzo was holding.

 

It was a vast tray crowded with overflowing plates of food. There were thick, fluffy-looking flapjacks smothered in butter and syrup with a few artfully sliced strawberry pieces and blueberries arranged on top; a massive omelet piled high with cheese and showing hints of bright pops of colour that Jesse could guess must be chopped peppers and vegetables; a veritable mountain of thick, juicy bacon, intermingled with breakfast sausages; even  _ hash browns _ . Somehow, in the midst of all of this, Hanzo had even managed to fit Jesse’s mug, perched precariously near the edge and full to the brim of rich coffee, fresh and a very familiar shade of light brown--had Hanzo even managed to get the exact amount of cream and sugar Jesse liked? His mouth watered with the aching thirst to taste it and find out.

 

When his eyes finally darted back up to Hanzo’s face, his lover was carefully not looking at him, his face absolutely aflame. He was still dressed down in a simple t-shirt (one of Jesse’s own with an obnoxiously country slogan on it) and sweatpants, it being too early to be properly dressed in his uniform as usual (especially given he was off-duty today), his hair, regally streaked with white, tied back in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck that didn’t quite show off the undercut he still stubbornly wore. He wasn’t even wearing his earrings or the piece that went in the bridge of his nose.

 

Jesse’s eyes flickered to the rest of the kitchen, suspiciously silent, and there was Reinhardt--thinner than he’d been ten years ago but still built like an ox and looking like he could take Zarya on, currently trying to discreetly place pots and pans in the wash, suspicious grease stains on his shirt betraying his involvement in this special surprise.

 

He didn’t have a chance to say anything before he was startled by a voice off to his right.

 

“How,” Genji began, drawing Jesse’s attention to his hoodie-clad and miserable-looking self, sitting hunched over his own small mug of coffee and plate of eggs and bacon at one of the nearby tables, “in the  _ hell, _ can you have downed as much bourbon as you did last night, and still be awake at this godawful hour?” The younger Shimada looked like he was quite ready for murder. “I’m not built for alcohol, Jesse. My liver is all-natural but half the size it should be. Over twenty years now you’ve known that. I sacrificed sleep and a peaceful morning to make sure you’d be out cold this morning. You couldn’t stay unconscious for  _ ten more fucking minutes? _ ”

 

For a long moment, Jesse could only gape at him, dumbfounded. Then, slowly, he began to laugh. He hastily raised his hand to cover his mouth and stifle it, turning back to Hanzo as his own cheeks warmed with pleased delight--his lover still wasn’t looking at him, shoulders hunched defensively and face still so very red, but Jesse could guess that it was out of embarrassment at having his surprise be spoiled like this.

 

“Darlin’,” Jesse finally began, voice quivering like he’d swallowed a whole, live fish that was flipping and leaping in his belly. “Did you--Did you really make all this for me?”

 

“No, I made it for the spirit dragons,” Hanzo replied sullenly, shifting from one foot to the other and still stubbornly not looking at Jesse. “They certainly deserve it more than you.”

 

“You got Reinhardt to help ya?”

 

“Not all of us make a hobby of cooking breakfast items,” his lover retorted hotly, finally turning those beautiful, sharply-glinting eyes of his on Jesse. “If it is not up to your standards, then--do not kiss me, Jesse!” he said sharply as he quickly leaned back away from the cowboy, who had taken hold of the tray and leaned across it with puckered lips to try and plant one on him. “Have you even brushed your teeth yet this morning?!”

 

“Aw, darlin’, indulge me, I was just so eager to see ya!” Jesse said, grinning broadly as he tried to pull the tray out of Hanzo’s grasp and chased him with his lips. “And given you sabotaged  _ my _ breakfast for  _ you, _ I’m thinkin’ we’re square and even!”

 

“You have  _ always _ made breakfast for me! Every year!” Hanzo said, seemingly even more outraged in the face of Jesse’s unabashed delight as he tried to yank the tray back without sending its contents flying. “I wanted to make it for you for once!”

 

“Well you could’a just damn well told me so instead’a makin’ me wake up a right mess thinkin’ the mornin’ was ruined!”

 

“You never just tell me that you are going to make breakfast!”

 

“ _ Hey! _ ” Abruptly, they both fell silent and froze in the midst of their tug-of-war over the breakfast tray, turning to stare guiltily at Fareeha, who was standing imperiously in the kitchen door. Arms crossed, foot tapping, she was the picture of impatience. “Spending the morning of your anniversary arguing? Take it to your room, none of us want to be forced to witness it when you two start ‘making up’.”

 

One would have had to be deaf to miss the derisive snort Genji gave, and it was hard to miss the quieter snickers that followed, either.

 

* * *

  
  


**_~~Deadline~~ One hour later._ **

 

“The pancakes were perfect, darlin’~” The words were murmured, softly and honest as a prayer, against Hanzo’s belly, as the man squirmed and turned his head away, flushed and panting. The tray lay on one of the bedside tables, plates almost completely cleaned, coffee completely drained (and Jesse feeling significantly more…  _ perky _ in the aftermath).

 

“Stop it,” Hanzo huffed. “We both know you would say the same even if it were not true.”

 

“But it is,” Jesse purred, before dragging his tongue up the planes of Hanzo’s abs, dipping into his navel and making his belly twitch with ticklish nerves. “True as written gospel~”

 

“I should be the one doing this for you,” Hanzo nearly whined rather than answering; his face was burning from the way Jesse slowly peeled his underwear down, nuzzling the trail of dark curls he gradually revealed until his lips met the base of Hanzo’s cock, already thick with his desire. “This was to be the morning I spoiled  _ you _ .”

 

“But you  _ are _ spoilin’ me, darlin’,” Jesse said, grinning shamelessly up at Hanzo, even as his lover gave him a withering glare. “I ain’t lyin’! The best goddamn breakfast in bed I’ve ever had in my life,  _ and _ dessert to boot? I’m ruined for anything else~”

  
Hanzo’s no-doubt scathing retort was rather ruined by the way he moaned when Jesse swallowed him down, but Jesse found his pleasured gasps just as beautiful as his wit.

**Author's Note:**

> Genji is allowed to not be on his A-game because he's hungover. Also, he can and does in fact need to eat. I run with the headcanon that he does have at least some of his internal organs still intact enough to function, and besides, the fleshy bits he has left still need sustenance.
> 
> So this is twelve years in the future, where Overwatch is once again a legal organization and exists in the public eye. Pharah is indeed the new Strike Commander. Jack Morrison is fully and completely retired and lives on a farm out in Indiana under a fake name. Reinhardt is technically retired too but still hangs out around headquarters, acting as a consulting, making sure the new recruits are up to snuff, and making public appearances on Overwatch's behalf. They put his armour in a museum mostly to make sure he couldn't get to it and go charging into combat despite doctor's orders. Also, D.va transferred from the Korean military to join Overwatch fully and has climbed up the ranks to become Fareeha's lieutenant/SIC and fully intends to be the next Strike Commander because she's ambitious as fuck.
> 
> I hope I did the "gift" thing right. LEFTY PLEASE LIKE THIS I WROTE IT FOR YOOOOOOOOU


End file.
